


Youthful Indiscretion

by Prisecolinensinenciousol



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 20:46:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prisecolinensinenciousol/pseuds/Prisecolinensinenciousol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'll always forgive Peter anything and he kind of hates that, but there it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Youthful Indiscretion

It's Chris Argent's first day at Beacon Hills High, the first day of the new school year, and he's prepared. They're supposed to be staying in this town longer than the others, something about the unusually high werewolf activity. He's going to actually have a chance to settle in for once, though naturally he knows not to get attached to anyone. As long as there are rules he doesn't have to wonder what to do, doesn't have to feel lost or confused with each new school. Just stick to the guidelines, stick to the code. Easy enough.

Peter Hale walks into his homeroom class. 

_Oh,_ Chris thinks, _shit._

Obviously Chris doesn't know then who Peter Hale is, has no idea that he's a Hale at all or even the significance of the name, but the striking ice blue eyes and full lips and smooth skin taut over the sharp straight flawless angles of his face really speak for themselves. 

Chris knows he's in trouble, and when Peter's gaze flickers to him and the slight smile on his face blossoms, Chris knows he's in Big trouble. The rest of the room seems to fall away, every noise but his own pounding heartbeat fading into the background. He has no idea what happens during that first class. The spell doesn't break until the bell rings, signalling the end of the period and the mere beginning of Chris' problems.

He's gathering his things in a messy rush and mentally berating himself, and Peter walks right up to the edge of his personal space and says, "Hey, I haven't seen you before." And he smiles like he wants to eat him, or maybe be eaten, Chris really can't tell and that is more terrifying than anything his training has prepared him for.

By the time Chris finds out, months later, that his new best friend slash crush grows fangs and claws and runs like an animal in the moonlight, it's too late. He's too far gone, too attached, too pathetically lovestruck despite layers of caked on denial. He tries to cut ties anyway, for a while. A week of unsuccessfully trying to avoid Peter culminates in a confrontation when the werewolf climbs in his bedroom window for the umpteenth time. It's a short-lived conversation.

"Peter, you can't be around me anymore."

"Yes I can."

"No, you don't understand. It's dangerous."

"For you, or me?"

"...Both. I'm-"

"I know. You're not going to hunt me though, are you? Isn't there a code?"

"Well- well yeah, but..."

"I wouldn't hurt you, Christopher. I'd never hurt you."

And Chris knows he isn't supposed to listen, he knows that they're monsters and monsters can't always control themselves and they're dangerous no matter what they say. He knows the rules, the stories, the warnings. He _knows._ He believes Peter anyway. "I know."

But the first time Peter bites him, he forgets. 

Peter kisses like the wolf he is, hungry and fierce and possessive, and Chris drowns in it. Loses himself in Peter's mouth pressed hot against his own, tongues twisting. Peter has one hand tangled in his hair and the other shoved up under his shirt, dragging the tips of claws over his chest and down his stomach. When the kiss breaks it's all Chris can do to gulp down air and cling to Peter's shoulders, he doesn't register his head being pulled back but the teeth- the _fangs_ sinking into his neck? Yeah, he notices those.

It barely even hurts, not much more than a cut or a skinned knee and- and if he were being honest it feels kind of good. Really kind of good, small jolts of pleasure are sent running down his spine and when Peter licks over the blood beading from the teeth marks it's the sweetest sting Chris has ever felt and he's gasping and that's when the penny drops and he shoves Peter off with a cry of horror. Because he was just bitten by a werewolf and oh hell no.

Peter reaches for him with a confused noise but Chris scrambles off the bed, running his hands through his mussed hair and trying not to hyperventilate.

"Shit shit shit oh my fucking god Peter no, why would you-" He feels sick and he can't stop cursing or shaking and Peter's just lounging on his bed now, watching him with languid eyes. "Stop looking so calm! How could you do this to me oh my god I'm going to get killed I'm going to die holy shit no, stop just laying there you fucking monster!" Chris makes a move towards the bed like he's going to he doesn't even know, attack maybe, but he can't go through with it. Instead he just collapses onto the covers and there's a sob climbing up his throat and he doesn't even care because his life is over. He looks at Peter's still painfully calm face and chokes out, "Why?"

"I'm not an alpha, you enormous dork." Peter's bland expression melts into one of amused, exasperated affection. "You're not going to turn, stop freaking out." Chris almost seizes up from the rush of hope.

"Wh-what?" 

"Only an alpha's bite can turn someone. I'm just a beta, I could take a dozen chunks out of you and you wouldn't even blink at a full moon. Shouldn't you know that? I'm pretty sure most hunters know that." Peter's teasing him, but more gently than usual. He's running a soothing hand through Chris' hair as well and that's doing almost as much to calm him down as the words are.

"I, uh..." And now that he thinks about it, that does sound familiar. Chris' lessons had mostly focused on how not to get bitten, period. They'd undoubtedly mentioned this particular fact but it hadn't been as important as look just kill them as quickly as possible because these beasts are nasty and can eat you and if you get bitten and turn then we'd have to finish you off. For a moment he just shakes with relief, and then he pushes Peter's hand away irritably. "You could've said so sooner!"

"You really think I would've done that to you?" Peter replies sharply, and Chris has to pause because he has a point there, even if it was still seriously uncool to let him think he was totally doomed for almost five minutes. He turns away, sitting on the edge of the bed and resolutely ignoring the werewolf.

Chris is extremely good at ignoring people, it's a skill he's developed well over the years. He can ignore absolutely anyone except Peter. This doesn't stop him from trying.

Peter's arms slide around his waist and he nuzzles against Chris' nape, and Chris hardens his expression and doesn't look at him. Peter nips the shell of his ear and kisses down to the edge of the bite on his neck and licks over it again, and Chris shivers in spite of himself. He tries to pull away, and Peter shifts around and presses an insistent kiss to the side of his mouth, and another, and Chris has to force himself to turn his head and then Peter has slid onto the floor and is pushing his legs apart, kissing at jeanclad thighs and he can feel the heat of his mouth through the material.

"Shit, Peter..." Chris cuts himself off, but he can't make himself push Peter away again. Not even when his zipper comes down and Peter pulls his dick out and especially not when he drags the flat of his tongue over the head, crystal blue eyes fixed on Chris' and they flash gold for the briefest of moments and that really shouldn't make Chris' cock jump but it does. He buries his hands in Peter's hair and gives up, anyone would with that mouth wrapped around them hot and wet and perfect. Peter's mouth was made for sucking cock and he knows it.

Peter pumps in his hand what he can't fit down his throat, and between that and his tongue and lips and once even the faintest touch of teeth he turns Chris into a groaning mess and works him to a dizzy world-rocking completion. He swallows everything Chris has to give, milking him to the last wave of pleasure, and then surges up to kiss him again. Chris is too blissed out to care that he can taste his own cum on Peter's lips.

"Forgive me yet?" Peter murmurs in smug tones, and Chris just sighs. That's basically a yes. He'll always forgive Peter anything and he kind of hates that, but there it is.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago and it was impulsive and experimental and don't look at me.


End file.
